


that's not how you pray

by prydon



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Communication, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Heist, Juno being protective, Nureyev being too self-sacrificing, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:53:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29421156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prydon/pseuds/prydon
Summary: Nureyev hears the sound of high heels on concrete, and suddenly someone is stepping in front of him: someone in a floaty pink dress that’s hiked up to reveal the blaster holster on his upper thigh. Said blaster is out, still buzzing from the previous shot, and trained straight on the next guard.“Don’t touch him,” Juno growls.
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 29
Kudos: 154
Collections: TPP Valentine's Exchange





	that's not how you pray

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inkedinserendipity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkedinserendipity/gifts).



> Happy Valentine's day!!
> 
> This fic has nothing to do with Valentine's day, but it was written for the Penumbra Valentines exchange, for the lovely Seren! She had some great prompts, and I ended up combining two to write this little story.
> 
> Title is from "Do You Want to Die Together?" by Stars.
> 
> CWs for self-sacrificing behavior and canon-typical physical injury and blaster fighting.

Juno’s dress is a floaty, pale pink color, its tulle floating around him like clouds during a particularly beautiful sunrise. The lace sleeves cover every inch of his sturdy arms down to his fingernails, which are painted the same shimmering silver as his heels.

Only flashes of his dark skin are visible underneath the extravagant garment, the countless scars that line his body hidden by the fabric. His missing eye is obscured under his flowered cap, as well, and even the mark across his nose has been covered by makeup. It all serves to create the image of the person he’s pretending to be today: Josephine Fitzgerald, the wealthy heiress of a minor royal family who’s never worked or struggled a day in his life.

Nureyev muses, idly, how unlucky the patrons at the ball are, to only be able to see Juno in this manner.

The dress is stunning, of course, and he looks radiant in it- but a Juno Steel without his scars, with his missing eye hidden from view, can only ever be a watered down version of the real thing. A knock off, without all the depth and history that makes up who the lady really is.

Nureyev tugs at the sleeve of his own disguise, which he must admit to being less than enthusiastic about. It’s a simple grey jumpsuit, the same worn by all the security guards at the ball. He’s Jared Taewang today, one of those guards. He and Josephine Fitzgerald have never met, and have nothing to do with each other. His job, on this heist, is merely to observe- to keep an eye on things from the balcony above the ballroom, and make sure everything goes to plan as Juno steals the item they’re after.

That item is the Star of Adrastea, said to house a powerful computer program Rita needs for her hacking exploits. Juno, ever-competent, has already sweet-talked his way into the back rooms and stolen it. Nureyev simply has to cover his exit from the mansion now, watching as he twirls and dances his way through the crowd towards the doors.

Their roles were originally reversed, unsurprisingly. In the beginning, Juno was meant to keep an eye on things as a guard, and Nureyev would be the wealthy heir sent to swipe the Star. Only a few days before the heist, however, Buddy had decided to exchange their roles.

She’d hushed Juno’s loud protests, saying, _“It never pays to fall into typecasting, darling. Your actions at Zolotovna’s ball prove you’re more than capable, and I’m certain Ransom can survive one mission_ sans _fancy clothes and makeup.”_

She was mostly right. Juno is certainly capable, and as unflattering as Nureyev finds the jumpsuit, he can handle wearing it. He _is_ wearing makeup, however. Much less than he usually does, but enough all the same.

His gaze flickers back to Juno, who is floating through the crowd like a sunbeam. He’s nearing the doors, now. Just a few more meters and he’ll be home free, though those meters are admittedly filled to the brim with drunk party guests.

“He’s caught your eye, too, has he?” a rough voice says.

Nureyev very nearly jumps as the man appears beside him on the balcony, but he’s a professional, so he smooths his shocked expression just as quickly as it appears. “Mister Belloc. Sir.”

He’s never met Norbert Belloc before now, but he memorized his name and picture when preparing for this job, as he did with the rest of the security team. Belloc is the team’s head, and his reputation precedes him when it comes to the safety of his clients’ valuables.

“You’re the new kid, right? What’s your name?”

“Jared Taewang, sir.”

“No need for all that _‘sir’_ business. Just Mister Belloc is fine.” The man leans on the railing. “Not bad for your first day, if you’ve already noticed something’s amiss with the princes _s_ in pink over there.”

“He’s…the heiress to the Fitzgerald family, isn’t he?” Nureyev says cautiously.

“Mm. Tell me, Taewang, have you ever heard of the Fitzgerald family?”

“I…well, I’m not exactly up to date with-”

“Exactly. I hadn’t either.” Belloc grins crookedly. “I had my eye on him from the moment he walked in here, and it seems that I was right to.”

“And…why is that?”

“The Star of Adrastea is missing from our vault, and that lovely little lady was the last one to enter the back rooms where it was being kept.”

Nureyev’s blood turns to ice in his veins.

Belloc laughs. “Bet he thinks we didn’t notice. Well, that’s what he gets for underestimating my security team. I’ve already ordered them to take care of him. You should stay at your post, though, since I doubt your assistance will be needed. Our dear fake princess has no idea what’s coming.”

Nureyev counts five guards, interspersed throughout the ballroom. Five guards currently advancing on Juno.

Juno’s good, but…even he’s not that good. He can’t take on that many armed goons at once. They’ll overpower him, surely, and he can tell from the look on Belloc’s face that he’s not the type to let a thief go with a slap on the wrist.

Juno’s in danger.

Juno could die here.

_Juno cannot die here._

His hand moves to switch on his comms, but by the time his finger’s on the button to call Juno, he realizes he can’t. Belloc is still right beside him. If he calls Juno to alert him now, he’ll blow his own cover and they’ll both be screwed. His mind is racing. Someone who is very good at compartmentalization must also, by necessity, be very good at improvisation- if one files away their entire past, they have nothing to draw from in times of great stress and danger except whatever comes to mind at the present moment.

He has a file to combat this, too, of course. It’s labeled ‘contingency plans’ and is filled to the brim, nearly overflowing. It’s so full that sometimes he wonders if he isn’t even a man, and is instead just several thousand contingency plans stuffed into a man-shaped suit.

Unfortunately, all several thousand of those plans were made when he was alone, heartless or broken-hearted, and not a single one factors in the presence of another person who Nureyev can’t let die.

_Improvise. Improvise. Improvise._

Juno is compromised. That’s unacceptable. Calling Juno or one of the others on his comms would compromise them both. Also unacceptable. He’s out of options…except one. One that exists nowhere in the contingency plan folder, because that folder is meant for plans that will get him out of a situation alive, and this one…

Will get Juno out alive. That’s all that matters.

With one elegant step, he moves in front of Belloc.

The man frowns, his eyebrows furrowing. “Taewang? What are you doing?”

“Apologies, _Mister_ Belloc,” Nureyev croons, all trace of the accent he’d put on for his persona vanishing. “I simply couldn’t go on listening to you accuse some two-bit new money heiress of stealing one of the most powerful computer programs on this planet out from under all your guards’ noses. It’s embarrassing for both of us.”

“Taewang, you-”

“Not my name, I’m afraid. You know, you’d think for a master of security you’d be better at doing background checks on your own employees.”

Belloc’s face has transformed from confusion to simmering rage. “It was you,” he says.

“Me who stole the Star of Adrastea? Why, yes. Of course.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I suppose I’m telling you because it doesn’t matter anymore. It’s already gone. Search my pockets all you like, but the hand off happened twenty minutes ago, and my associate is already miles away with the Star in hand. You won’t find them, and you won’t find it,” Nureyev says, plastering a bored smirk onto his face.

Belloc punches his own comms button and growls into it. “Everyone on the floor, come to the balcony immediately.” He lowers the device to scowl at Nureyev. “I hope you know that your need to gloat will be your death sentence, whoever you are. My people will torture you until you tell me the Star’s location, and if you won’t give it up, then…I think you can guess what will happen.”

Guards are pounding up the stairs on either side of Nureyev, now. There’s nowhere to run. The balcony is too high to jump from, and there are no handholds to climb down. Nonetheless, he finds himself feeling relieved as large, rough hands grab him and pin his arms to his side. If they’re here, they’re not on Juno. Juno can get out safe.

He smiles. “You might as well spare yourself the trouble, my good man. I’m not going to tell you anything.”

“So, what? You’re _asking_ me to kill you, now?” Belloc says. “This is pathetic. If you’re so clever, why didn’t you just run? You already got the Star.”

He shrugs, adjusting his character on the fly. _Improvise._ He’s a master thief now, but not Peter Nureyev. He’s Josef Earl, and he… “What can I say, Belloc. I’m a man past my prime. This was always meant to be my final heist, anyway. I might as well go out with a bang.”

Belloc’s lip curls into a sneer. “No. Not a bang. You’re going to die pathetically, where no one can see you,” he says, then turns to address the guards. “Take our friend down to the basement and kick him around. If he spills the location of the Star, good. If he doesn’t…kick him harder. If his heart happens to give out during the process, so be it.”

Nureyev lets himself go limp as the guards drag him away.

_That’s right. Focus on me. As long as you’re focused on me, you won’t hurt him._

Belloc wasn’t wrong about not going out with a bang. The basement is dark, cool and empty, and the most utterly mundane place to get beaten to death by a squad of no-name goons.

He does consider fighting back, of course- every atom in his body is wired to fight and survive, and he’s never been one to take a punch lying down. Still, the downside of getting every guard off of Juno is that now every guard is on him, and even he’s not fool enough to think he stands a chance at taking out five people whose muscles are the size of his head and whose blasters are even bigger.

He’s not going to get out of this, is he?

That’s what he thinks as the first kick slams into his gut, winding him. The guards cackle at how easily he stumbles.

“This one’s not gonna last long,” one of them says. The others are looking at him with the sort of respect that implies he’s a ringleader of some sort to them. If his biceps are anything to go by, the respect is well deserved. “He’s skin and bones, the smug bastard.”

The second kick comes a second later, even harder than the first. “Tell us where the Star is,” a guard with long blonde hair spits.

He gets his breath back just enough to smirk and say, “Not going to happen, I’m afraid.”

“You really wanna die for this?”

“If I must.”

“You know, I’d kinda hoped for more of a fight, but…it’s no fun playing with your prey when it’s already given up,” the ringleader says. “Might as well put you out of your misery.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a very violent man?”

The next thing he knows, the ringleader has slammed him to the ground and has him by the throat, reeling back to hit him across the face. Nureyev’s combat skill has always come from his speed and dexterity, not his ability to take a punch- that’s how he managed to break his leg in such a pathetic manner only a few months ago, after all. The man was right; he isn’t going to last long. Nureyev closes his eyes, ready for the inevitable bone-crushing impact, and…

The punch doesn’t come.

He opens his eyes again, confused.

The guard is still poised to hit him, but he isn’t looking at him anymore. He’s staring at the door. “What? What the hell are you-”

Then there’s the sound of a blaster going off and the man goes rigid. Nureyev only just manages to roll out of the way before his heavy body collapses on top of him, twitching from the after effects of the stun blast.

He hears the sound of high heels on concrete, and suddenly someone is stepping in front of him: someone in a floaty pink dress that’s hiked up to reveal the blaster holster on his upper thigh. Said blaster is out, still buzzing from the previous shot, and trained straight on the next guard.

 _“Don’t touch him,”_ Juno growls.

In that moment, silhouetted by the harsh white basement lights with his dress billowing in the dusty air, Nureyev thinks even the goddess he was named for would fall to her knees in front of him.

The guards scramble for their blasters. Juno shoots one of them out of its owner’s hand before she can even get a shot in, then dodges out of the way of another’s stun bolt. He hits yet another guard and they go down like an anchor, crashing to the floor.

“What the fuck!?” one of the two remaining guards yells. “Someone hit hi-”

Before he can even get another word out, Juno’s shot him in the shoulder and he keels over. Juno whips around to shoot the last guard, but the blaster just makes the telltale clicking noise that signals it’s out of charge. He only hesitates for half a second before changing his grip on it and pistol-whipping them across the face instead.

The basement is quiet then, except for the quiet moans of the injured guards and the sound of Juno’s labored breathing. His back is to Nureyev now, his dress having slipped down around his shoulders to reveal those scars Nureyev had so dearly missed. He stays there for a moment, shoulders heaving. Nureyev assumes he’s catching his breath, but then he raises his gun and stuns all the guards who are still clinging to consciousness, and Nureyev realizes that he was just waiting for the blaster to recharge.

Just like that, they’re alone.

 _Goddess of protectors, indeed,_ Nureyev thinks hazily.

Juno slips his gun back into its holster and the next thing Nureyev knows, he’s kneeling beside him, frantically looking him over.

“Are you hurt?” Juno asks, eye shining with concern.

Nureyev shakes himself and stammers, “A little roughed up, but nothing serious.”

Juno keeps checking him for another minute, as though convinced he’s lying, but eventually seems to conclude that the scrapes and bruises are truly the worst injuries Nureyev has sustained. He sits back on his knees. “You…you’re okay.”

“All thanks to your impeccably timely intervention, dear heart.” Nureyev’s head is still reeling, filled with the image of Juno standing over him, beautiful face twisted with righteous indignation on his behalf. He gets the feeling he’s going to be remembering that for the rest of his life. “That was nothing short of incredible. I’m certain I can never repay you.”

“Mm. Don’t mention it. Not like I was gonna let you die.” Juno’s expression is strange. He’s frozen for a moment, and then suddenly he turns away and calls Buddy. “Hey, Aurinko. Yeah, we’re okay. Ransom ran into a bit of trouble, but he’s fine. We have the Star, and we’ll be at the rendezvous point in a second.”

It's easy enough to slip out from under Belloc’s nose when all of his guards are incapacitated. Juno doesn’t talk on the walk back to the Ruby 7, or the ride back to the ship. Nureyev asks him if he’s all right, but he just brushes off the question. If Nureyev didn’t know better, he’d think Juno was avoiding even looking at him. But…why would he do that?

A fleeting voice in his mind whispers, _He’s embarrassed by you. He thinks it’s pathetic that someone who calls himself a master criminal couldn’t even take down a few security goons by himself._

The thought gets pushed aside and filed away, not under ‘for future consideration’ but under ‘irrational fears’. Juno himself has been teaching him to get better at that, lately- at not immediately jumping to the conclusion that if he makes even the smallest mistake, the rest of the crew will turn on him and loathe him for his incompetence.

Still, something is clearly on Juno’s mind, and he hates that he doesn’t know what.

Things only get worse after the family meeting. Buddy asks Nureyev to talk through what happened at the heist from his perspective, and he does so, with only minor embellishments.

“I was speaking to the head of security, but it seems he’s a more intelligent man than we anticipated,” he says. “He’d figured out that the Star had been stolen, and must have realized that I was involved in its theft, because he instructed his underlings to take me out. They might have succeeded, too, if not for Juno.”

“That was an unfortunate hitch, but the important thing is that you’re both all right,” Buddy says. “Good instinct, Juno.”

Nureyev sends Juno a smile, but Juno doesn’t smile back. His expression is dark, and he doesn’t acknowledge Buddy’s praise.

Nureyev doesn’t even see Juno for the rest of the evening. He gets patched up by Vespa, then spends the next couple of hours just wandering around and feeling antsy. He goes through several of his rituals- a series of stretches, a memory exercise, and a concentration game. They don’t distract him from the ache in his chest, though- the hole that appears in it every time he and Juno are apart.

He’s relieved when he heads to the kitchen to have a cup of tea before bed and finds Juno there, changed out of his intricate pink dress and now wearing nothing but a sweatshirt and boxers.

“Ah, there you are, love. Good evening.” He glides up behind him and wraps his arms around Juno’s soft torso, pressing a kiss to his coiled hair.

Juno doesn’t melt into his embrace like he usually does, however. Instead, he does the opposite.

“Lay off, Ransom,” he says, pulling away.

Irritation rises in Nureyev’s chest. “What is the matter with you today, Juno?” he snaps. “Did I do something wrong? Because if so, I would very much like to _know_ about my own supposed transgression.”

Juno laughs bitterly, still not looking at him. Then he suddenly reels around and says, “You know what? Yeah, you did do something wrong. And then you _lied about it_ to our captain.”

Nureyev takes an involuntary step back, thrown off guard by the sudden force of Juno’s anger. “What…what are you talking about?”

Juno shakes his head, the same mirthless smile still plastered on his face. “You left your comms on when you were talking to Belloc, Nureyev.”

“…Ah.”

“I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt. I wanted to believe that you’d called me and left your comms running on purpose so that I could hear what was going on, because you trusted me to come help you. Because you had a plan to get out of there. But you had no idea, did you? You didn’t expect me to save you. You thought you were sacrificing yourself. You _wanted_ to sacrifice yourself.”

Nureyev is quiet for a moment, frozen. Then he swallows and says, “I wasn’t going to allow them to attack you.”

“I had a goddamn blaster on me. I could’ve handled them myself. Or…we could’ve handled it together. Literally any other decision would have been better than just ditching your alias and letting them take you.”

“I didn’t want to take the risk. It seemed like the most certain way to protect you from harm.”

“And what about protecting _yourself_ from harm?!” Juno’s voice cracks. “Fuck, Nureyev. I know I’m being a hypocrite. I know…I know I did the same thing to you, with Miasma. I’m not the lady I was back then, though. I’ve changed, and…goddammit, you’re not allowed to take my place. You’ve been on the other side of this, so shouldn’t you understand how shitty it feels?!”

“This was different,” Nureyev says, gritting his teeth.

“What? Don’t tell me you were more likely to survive. You didn’t even have a knife on you, and I saw the looks on those guards’ faces. You didn’t stand a chance and you know it.”

“It was different because _I can’t stand to lose you.”_ The words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop them, rough and unfiltered. “I can’t.”

There’s a long, tense silence, and then Juno says, “And…what? You think _I_ can stand to lose _you?”_

“Of course,” Nureyev says without hesitation. “You already left me of your own volition once, after all. Not to mention that you have…you have Rita. You have the rest of the family, and your friends back in Hyperion City. You have other people that love you. I don’t.”

It isn’t meant to be a vent, or some tearful, self-pitying confession. It’s just fact, and he states it as such.

Yet for some reason Juno’s face still collapses into the same devastated, sympathetic expression he wears whenever Nureyev talks about his childhood or breaks down in front of him.

“Nureyev, that’s…”

“Don’t try to tell me it’s not true,” Nureyev says coolly. “You would be fine without me. You might be upset for a while, but you’d survive. You’d be okay, in the end.”

“So would you. Hell, it’s like you said. I…I already left once. I’ll never forgive myself for that, but the point is…I was gone for a year, and you were fine then, so-”

“No, I wasn’t,” Nureyev says. Once again, his voice is level. It’s a fact. Nothing more. “I tried to be, but I wasn’t.”

Juno’s shoulders sag, and suddenly Nureyev regrets speaking at all. He wants to take back every word he’s said, and come up with a different excuse for the way he acted today- something that won’t make Juno look so guilty and miserable.

How could he look this lady in the eye and admit that he needs him that much? How could he put that much pressure on him, by telling him he’s literally the only person Nureyev has in this world? It’s not fair to him. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone, to have to carry that weight.

“Forgive me,” he says quickly. “I’m just being melodramatic. I apologize for my actions today, and I promise that in the future I will consider other options-”

“You aren’t being melodramatic,” Juno says, cutting him off. “I’m sorry that I never…realized you felt that alone.”

“…Mm.”

“You aren’t, though.”

Nureyev grimaces. “Juno, it’s all right. I’m used to-”

“You _aren’t._ You don’t just have me, and you wouldn’t have no one if something happened to me. The other members of this crew care about you, Nureyev. I promise you that. They wouldn’t leave you alone. Rita definitely wouldn’t, at least. She’s your friend, too. All right?”

Nureyev isn’t sure he believes that, but…she has been kind to him. He struggles to imagine that the other family members so much as care whether he lives or dies, but he can at least accept that Rita does. “…All right.”

“I’m still mad at you,” Juno says gruffly. “But…I get it. I get being scared of losing someone. I may have other people, but I’m still fucking terrified of losing you. I’m not going to, though. You’re not gonna lose me, and I’m not gonna lose you. We’re going to look after each other. _Without_ just throwing ourselves in front of the train, all right?”

“Very well.”

“Nureyev, look at me.”

He had been staring guiltily at the floor, but suddenly a hand is on his chin and gently tilting his head upwards to meet Juno’s eye. Nureyev gets the feeling that in a less emotionally charged moment, his face would’ve turned bright red. He’s not entirely certain it isn’t turning red right now, anyway.

“No more throwing yourself in front of the train,” Juno says. “Promise.”

He swallows and nods. “I won’t if you won’t.”

“It’s a deal.”

Then Juno wraps his arms around Nureyev’s neck and pulls him into a long, deep kiss. He presses him back against the kitchen cabinets, gently enough to not irritate his scrapes and bruises from the day’s events, and they stay there for a long time.

When they finally break apart, Nureyev says, “I must admit, I’ve been waiting for that.”

“Oh, have you been?”

“Ever since you rescued me, love. I have no intentions to put myself in a situation like that again if I have any say in the matter, but…I must admit that being saved by you was quite the rush. You looked positively ethereal standing over me like that. If I hadn’t already been on the floor, I might have swooned. It was very…sexy.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Perhaps, but I’m right.”

“Hell, you’ve been my knight in shining armor plenty of times. About time I got to be yours,” Juno says. “Except, er, maybe next time I’d rather rescue you from a less…stressful situation.”

“You could rescue me right now, if you like. I’m feeling so _tired_ and _sore_ after taking such a beating, and my bedroom is all the way on the _other side_ of the ship…”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

“In fact, I’m practically on the verge of collapse. If you could only-”

Before he can carry on his play act any longer, he finds himself yelping as Juno quite literally sweeps him off his feet and into his arms. It takes a moment of blinking up at the lady, wide-eyed with awe, before he finds his voice again.

“Juno. Love,” he manages finally. “You…I didn’t know you could do that.”

He’d expected a shoulder to lean on, perhaps, but not to be bodily lifted into a full bridal carry. Juno just smirks. “Maybe I couldn’t have a year ago, but I’ve been joining Jet on his strength exercises recently. Now, let’s get you to your room before that strength runs out, all right? Your legs are too goddamn long, anyway. It’s unwieldy.”

Nureyev sinks into Juno’s arms as he’s carried to his bed, resting his head under his chin. It had been quite an attractive sight when Juno had stepped over him with his dress hiked up and blaster in hand, but…it had also hurt to see him so scared. Nureyev never wants Juno to be that scared on his behalf again, not if he can help it. He never wants anyone to feel like he did on the other side of that door.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles into Juno’s neck. “I love you.”

He feels Juno smile. “I love you too. I’m glad you’re okay.”

“…Me, too.”

Nureyev doesn’t want to live in a world without Juno in it, but he doesn’t want Juno to live in a world without him, either. He wants them to be together always, and for that to happen, they have to look after themselves as well as each other.

It’s easier said than done, of course, but…he’s going to try.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write something featuring Juno being protective of Nureyev for ages so thank you Seren for giving me an excuse to do so >:D
> 
> Love you all, have a good day, and you can find me on twitter @prydonn and tumblr @prydon!!


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